My heartbeat pulses loud in my ears as I wait for his response.
“Oh, good.” Ivori startles us both as she steps out onto the porch. “Someone who knows what he’s doing is here.”
My chin jerks back. “Wait, whyareyou here?”
Landon lifts his arm and gestures to my best friend.
My mouth falls open. “You calledhim?”
Ivori jingles her keys as she jogs down the porch steps. “Evan was busy. Gotta go. Sorry, bye!”
“Oh, no you don’t.” The mud squishes between my bare toes as I trudge back to the porch, trying to look menacing but I’m walking like a swamp monster.
She’s smirking at me like the cat who caught the canary. “You should let him lay some pipe for you.”
I lift my middle finger in front of her face, and she swats it away as she heads down the path to her car.
“What the hell is going on over there?”
I look across my yard to Bernard’s porch. “My first and last attempt at plumbing.”
He blows out a low whistle through his lips. “Looks like you’re making a moat around your house.”
I scowl. “Yeah, it’s to keep nosy neighbors like you away.”
He rasps out a laugh. “That Fletcher boy knows what he’s doing?”
I glance back at Landon over my shoulder. “Doubtful.”
“I don’t mess around with plumbing,” Bernard says, stroking his Golden Retriever, Buddy’s head. “Plumbing and electrical. You need the professionals for those.”
“Already on it,” Landon says, jogging up the porch stairs. “I called Gus. He’s going to swing by after his current stop.”
“Thanks. Listen, I’m sorry Ivori called you. I can handle it from here.”
Ignoring me, he reaches behind his neck and yanks his mud-covered shirt up and over his head. I’m frozen where I stand, my traitorous eyes devouring his bare body, sliding across his broad, chiseled shoulders, around the swell of his defined chest, and over each ridge and groove of his abdomen.
Damn.
This isn’t high school Landon. I mean, he looked good then, but this...this is much different.
I’m helpless as he pulls off his mud-covered sneakers, and then yanks down his basketball shorts, letting them fall in a heap on the porch. A dark dusting of hair trails down below his belly button, leading into his black boxer-briefs. My thighs clench.
Don’t look at his dick.
Don’t look at his dick.
Don’t look at his dick.
Landon clears his throat. “I’ve got a change of clothes in my trunk.”
“Huh?” My eyes snap up to his, and he’s wearing a satisfied smirk.
“Let me change and then I can take a look at anything else in the house that needs fixing.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I say at his back, because he’s already jogging toward his Explorer.
I steal one more glance at him, watching the way his muscles ripple as he runs across the lawn. It’s clear he hasn’t been skipping leg day either. The fabric of his boxer-briefs cling to his round, muscular ass.
